I have just made Frank an indecent proposal. Break-up sex or make-up sex. It’s up to him.
“I know you’re mad at me. I know I’ve hurt you deeply,” I say. “But you don’t have to talk to me. Just follow me again. Into there….”
I gesture towards the direction of the ladies’ room with a tilt of my head.
“Call it whatever you want, what we do in there. It can be hello. Or it can be goodbye…” I say.
I stand up and head to the restroom. Will he follow?
When I get to the ladies’ room, I wash my hands nervously, dry them and then touch up my lipstick.
This is crazy. It’s wrong, yet so right. The audacity of doing it in this bathroom with Frank while Eric waits for me outside, blissfully unaware, is dizzying. It will be even hotter than the first time we did it in a public place.
Frank has not come in yet. Will he? I continue to wait. I know he’s hurt but he loved me deeply. That doesn’t just stop. I pace a little, wondering if I’ve overplayed my hand. But which guy refuses a woman with no strings attached? I’m about to give up when the door swings open. It’s Frank. I give him a triumphant smile.
He stands there for a moment, his eyes unreadable. Then he walks towards me. We start to kiss. It’s frenzied. He yanks my hair back and bites my lip. The sharp pain excites me even more.
“This is what you wanted?” he asks.
“Yes,” I mumble as his lips press hard against mine. He starts to unbutton my blouse.
“Let’s go into one of these cubicles,” I say, fearing someone will walk in, but he resists.
“Wait,” he says lifting up my skirt. He proceeds to play me like a violin and I moan with pleasure.
“Oh, Frank,” I gasp.
The door swings open. Oh, no. This is what I feared. How embarrassing. We’ve been caught red-handed. I can only imagine the picture we make. My blouse halfway open. My skirt raised around my waist, Frank’s hands on me. We both look up. I’m expecting to see a disapproving lady but the face I see is the last I’d ever have expected. It’s … Eric.
Oh, crap! What the hell is he doing in here? Did he think this was the men’s bathroom? There’s a huge sign; is he blind? Or did he have this same thing in mind? Coming to do what I’m doing with Frank? And where the hell is my damn phone? Did he leave it on the table? The last thought is so random, I almost laugh at the absurdity of it.
“I see what you meant,” Eric immediately says to Frank.
Wait. These two know each other? Frank lets go of me and I quickly adjust my dress to its original position. He walks to the sink and washes his hands, looking at Eric through the mirror.
“I’m glad you came to see for yourself,” Frank says to Eric. “I wouldn’t wish this whore on my last enemy.”
I’m confused. What’s happening right now? My hands are shaking as I button up my blouse. Eric walks out without saying a single word to me.
“After you invited me in here, I went to your table and asked him to come and see the type of woman he is dating,” Frank explains to me.
A feeling of cold dread washes over me.
“You set me up? You son of a bitch!” I spew.
“You set yourself up, Samantha,” Frank responds. “This IS goodbye.”
He brushes past me.
“But I’m curious. Do you still want to do me?” he asks.
I slap him across the face.
“Is that a yes?” he asks, unfazed. Then laughing, he walks out.